


'Til Death Us Do Part

by lindsey_grissom



Series: Crystal Heart [15]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-20
Updated: 2010-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 15:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/101349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>She hates to think of what will be after she is no more.</i>  Part of the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/3978">Crystal Heart</a> 'Verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til Death Us Do Part

Her white dress trails the polished floor as he twirls her around. More often than not her feet leave the floor altogether, she likes it; it adds to the feeling of dancing on air.

He might look intense; hands grabbing her close and holding tight. But his grip is gentle, steadying and his fingers move in a soft caress through her dress.

He has been her friend for years. Her father has always expected this, indeed, she knows he has been planning for this day from the moment he thought to introduce the new Captain to his daughter.

They laughed about it almost from the beginning. They still laugh, because her father is far too happy about this marriage. She wonders what he would think if he knew the truth behind the arrangement.

She will not tell him, cannot and not simply because he would have her sent for head checks if she did. But she promised her friend, her _husband_ she would say nothing. And so she will not. It is too good a secret to share, besides. It is their secret and she knows only the two of them know it.

She trembles and the way the warm arms tighten around her, she knows her Captain feels it too.

This is the reason she can know what she does, that the enigmatic man holding her has allowed himself to reveal so much.

She is long passed the anger and sorrow, she will not deny his stories have helped with that. However, she knows her illness hurts him still, she has told him he will have to become used to such occurrences if he is to live longer than most.

She has always been outspoken. He has always treated her as an equal entitled to as much speech as she wishes. She almost wishes she had been born into his future kind, if only for that.

He has tried to fix her, but the band on his wrist does not work as he would have it, and the tenth time she brought it back from across the room, she made him swear not to try again. She has accepted that her destiny is to die younger than most, just as his is the opposite. It is a painful irony that this difference is what makes them fit together so well.

He has admitted that he would not marry her, were it not for her condition. She takes no offence, she knows quite well what he means. He does not age, will not age, and so he must travel often and sever ties wherever they might bind him. It is a lonely existence, one she knows he feels acutely, though he hides it from others well. She has been known to send thanks for this disease which ravishes her body; it has allowed her to alleviate that pain for just a short while. He says it is enough; she is unsure, but it is all she can give so she is inclined to believe him, if only to bring herself some measure of peace.

She hates to think of what will be after she is no more, not because she fears her death, but because she fears his life. She wishes for him to stay the carefree man she so loves. The man he assures her, she has had no small part in drawing out of him again.

Morbid thoughts for their first dance as man and wife, but she can see their echo reflected in the crystal blues that have seemed to hold her captive forever. They are far from an ordinary pair, and so she never expects for them to settle into normal roles. It is all the more shocking on the few occasions where they do.

She has heard tales of a future she would never have seen, even should she have lived long passed the age of her grandmother. Of stars that hold power over planets where life blossoms in forms she cannot imagine, and her husband's attempts at artistic interpretations have her laughing in a way many men would condemn her for. But not him. He tells her he loves her more when she allows herself to be who she really is, and not the image she was taught to show the world. She could love him for that alone.

Of course there is not one thing for either of them and she likes to think it is fate that has drawn them near and thrown them against each other. Her Captain does not like to believe in fate, though he never mocks her beliefs, nor asks her to change her thoughts. She understands his reluctance. He cannot see how any being with the power of such a thing as fate could see to giving him the continued existence he often abhors. She knows though, that he will come to enjoy that which he hates. Some may call it women's intuition, others witchcraft. But she knows in her bones that this man was chosen for a reason, and though she shall not live to see him realise this, her certainty is a comfort.

She shall die with her husband by her side, as young in features as she knows he has never been in spirit, and she will have the knowledge that he will go on living, long after others who would remember her have joined her in eternal rest. She shall be held forever more in his memory as she would wish to be in his arms, and truly, that is far more than any around her can lay claim to. She has been allowed a small shard of his oh so broken heart, and when others after her continue the repairs she has only started to make, her presence there will not waver.

She does not need his words to know this, though she loves to hear them all the same. But this truth is written in his eyes and in his every action, if one only knows where to look, and she does. Long after her body is but bones beneath silk, and their wedding picture faded to near absence, his image of her will remain as clear as the still water beneath the night sky.

And to know that, will always be enough.

 

**End.**


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